


So I Carry the Torch

by spellboundcrown



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, actually no one here is very prominent except galo and lio, and by implied sexual content i mean that it definitely happened, and this is mostly following lio's perspective on things, gueimei is not very prominent here sorry, it's just that i didn't write it because smut is hard and i suck, some Ocs are mentioned but not featured, there's language but it's not heavy i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-01-13 00:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21235193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellboundcrown/pseuds/spellboundcrown
Summary: It's been one year, five months, and twenty days since Lio Fotia and Galo Thymos first met. Lio has spent approximately 93% of this time falling in love and subsequently waiting for Galo to make a move.Unfortunately, it looks like his move is turning Lio down.





	1. It's Just a Spark (But It's Enough)

**Author's Note:**

> i first saw this movie on sep 28  
i've seen it four times (so far) and i'm gonna see redux in december  
promare owns my entire ass

It’s been one year, five months, and thirteen days since the Galo de Lion saved the world by burning up the local solar system. In light of the situation, the more benevolent citizens of Promepolis had aided Burning Rescue Station 3 in relocation efforts for the former Burnish and deposed the standing government.

A surprising amount of the general population held a lot less malice towards the Burnish than expected, and the temporarily self-governed people cooperated with more ease than anyone could imagine. Lio, Meis, and Gueira had been in charge of all ex-Burnish related operations at first, but as their community gained stability, more and more people stepped in to ease the burden until the Mad Burnish trio were free to pursue other responsibilities. When the three of them showed up at Burning Rescue’s doorstep, Ignis had taken them on as trainees and helped them through the academy.

It’s been one year, four months, and twenty-four days since Galo Thymos offered to share his new, humble apartment with Lio Fotia. When asked why, Galo had shrugged and said, “I care about him a lot, it’s the natural thing to do.” Meis and Gueira and most of the other displaced populace were set up with temporary lodgings. Lio had overlooked his own situation. Now he has four mugs for his exclusive use in Galo’s cupboards, his own bed and dresser full of clothes, and a shockingly domestic lifestyle fitted between his and Galo’s hectic schedules.

It’s been one year, four months, and seventeen days since Lio Fotia finally and grudgingly accepted his budding feelings for a certain firefighting idiot extraordinaire. Galo is unlike anyone else Lio has ever had the fortune (or misfortune) of knowing. His physical condition is nothing to sneeze at, of course, but Galo’s headstrong in his convictions, open about his feelings on _ everything,_ and has a heart of gold and an iron will. Sure, he’s a little clueless when it comes to common sense, but his boundless enthusiasm and occasional tact more than make up for it.

And nothing in that one year, four months, and seventeen days has decreased Lio’s affections even marginally.

(Well, there was that thing with the soap opera for a short while, but now Lio can only recall the incident with a fond, wistful smile.)

“But really?” Gueira asks, scooting his chair further under the awning. When he inevitably runs his chair into Meis’ without escaping the harsh sun, Meis sighs and relinquishes his sunglasses to Gueira, then squints into the brightness of midday. “Nothing at _ all? _”

It’s a rare occasion where Galo is on duty and the Mad Burnish Trio have the day off. Lio’s taken advantage of this to gather Gueira and Meis at a café for consultation. He feels a bit bad about using their free time to complain about his romantic woes, but Galo’s lack of reciprocation is starting to drive him mad.

Lio purses his lips and shakes his head, a little embarrassed at where the conversation is headed. He rubs a thumb over the handle of his teacup. “Everything he does is somehow endearing whether he intends it or not. I’m not sure if this is a ‘love is blind’ situation or if I’m losing all rational thought. There’s no way I can be in this deep.”

“Maybe it’s both,” Meis offers. He adjusts the parting of his hairline and lazily scoops the rest of it into a bun.

“Or!” Gueira exclaims eagerly, making finger guns at Lio. “Or... maybe it’s the secret third option of your eyes and your brain working properly and Galo is naturally charming.” Meis rounds on him.

“But it’s _ Galo,_” he argues, bun flopping haphazardly. “How does ‘stupid’ count as naturally charming?”

“Because he’s _Galo!_” Lio fires back, louder than intended. A few heads swivel in their direction, prompting him to readjust his volume. “He just… _does _things so whole-heartedly and with such good intentions that it balances out.”

All Lio gets for defending Galo are a smug grin (from Gueira) and a flat look of unsurprised distaste (from Meis).

“See?” Gueira remarks triumphantly. “Eyes, brain, natural charm.”

Meis sighs in resignation. “I don’t understand your taste in men, Boss.”

At that, Lio scoffs, raising his cup to his lips without taking a sip. “Bold statement from someone with equally poor taste, Meis.” He takes an exaggerated drink, eyes darting to Gueira’s now confused face. Meis flushes deeply.

“Shut up!” Meis hisses under his breath. Then, at a regular volume, he asks, “Can we go back to talking about Galo? That was more fun.”

The bewilderment on Gueira’s face skyrockets. “Weren’t we always talking about Galo?” It’s clear that his gears are still turning, however slowly. After a few seconds, he rounds on Meis with a weirdly serious expression and raises the sunglasses from his eyes. “Meis, why didn’t you tell me you have a crush on Galo?”

Lio chokes on his tea. Meis splutters indignant protests, face exploding in a violent shade of pink. People from other tables are definitely staring at them now, and the strange mundanity of the Mad Burnish Trio getting glares for disrupting a relatively quiet lunch hour (as opposed to arsonist gang activity) only makes Lio cough harder.

Someone thumps him on the back firmly until the coughing subsides into giggles. “You good, Lio?”

Lio manages to nod, suppressing his laughter enough to respond, “I’m good, thank you, Galo.”

...Galo?

Indeed, one Galo Thymos is hovering behind Lio, rubbing a palm soothingly between his shoulder blades. It’s Lio’s turn to burst into a blush as his mind simultaneously goes blank and formulates a million unvoiced questions.

Across the table, Gueira and Meis have fallen silent, staring at Galo in the awkward stillness his arrival has brought. Out of the corner of his eye, Lio can see the café’s other patrons trying not to watch them openly, but it’s obvious that they’re still eavesdropping.

“Sorry,” Galo apologizes, raising the bag of takeout in his other hand. “I was on a food run and saw you guys, so I thought I should say ‘hi’.” The smile on his face is absolutely blinding, and Lio doesn’t even have to look to know.

“Um, how much of our conversation did you hear?” Meis asks.

Galo winces and sighs. “I heard Gueira ask if you have a crush on me,” he admits sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to.” Lio can feel Galo’s hand moving from his back to his shoulder in a blazing trail.

“It’s a misunderstanding!” Meis insists, straightening up in his seat. Both of his hands are flat out on the table, as though ready to launch himself into the sun. “I don’t have a crush on you!”

“Whatever you say,” Galo says, nodding sagely despite his plain skepticism. “For what it’s worth, I apologize for being unable to return your feelings. I hope you understand.”

From Lio’s perspective, it seems as though Meis’ mortification has caused his soul to leave his body. But before anyone can say anything else, Galo claps his hand on Lio’s shoulder and gives him a small squeeze. “Anyway, I really have to get back to the station. Enjoy the rest of your lunch!” He makes it a few steps away before wheeling back to Lio. “By the way, firebug, I’m gonna get groceries after my shift. Did you need anything from the store?”

Lio can manage little more than shaking his head. Galo gives him a thumbs up, and with a final wave, he’s off at a jaunt and disappears around the corner. Gueira’s turned to watch Galo leave, but Meis continues his thousand-yard stare past Lio’s head. After some long, painful moments, he manages to vehemently whisper, “What the _ fuck _ just happened?”

“You got the gentlest let-down I’ve ever seen from someone you’re not even interested in,” Lio tells him.

“I know that, smartass,” Meis snaps, gaining back his liveliness. “It was a rhetorical question.”

Slowly, Gueira searches Meis’ face, clearly not comprehending any of the subtext Lio provided. “So you really _ don’t _ have a crush on Galo?”

“No!” Meis nearly yells, smacking the table for emphasis. “And I never have! I’ve had a crush on someone stupider for longer than I’ve known Galo!”

“...Do I know them?”

Lio watches the situation derail with immense amusement. Sure, it seems like he won’t get any actual help with his own crush today, but it’s funnier to watch someone else struggle with the same problem, especially when that someone else looks about two seconds from strangling his oblivious love interest.

“You should tell Gueira _ all about _ your crush, Meis. He could help you out.”

“Yeah!” Gueira agrees enthusiastically. “I could be your wingman!”

“Oh my god, shut up, both of you,” Meis grumbles. He rubs one temple and levels a glare at Lio. “I thought I was here to help you, not the other way around.”

“Believe me, this is helping.” Another urge to snicker at Meis’ dilemma is hidden in another innocuous sip of tea. It doesn’t seem to work, given that Meis is glaring daggers at him anyway.

“What’s the problem then?” Meis demands. “He can’t be worse than genius boy wonder over here,” he says, indicating Gueira, “unless you brought us here just to gush about Galo.”

“No, there’s an actual problem,” Lio concedes. “He does things like make my coffee if he’s up first, he runs maintenance on my bike with Lucia if he knows it needs servicing, and sometimes he calls me ‘firebug’, but he’s never actually tried to make a move. At most, he gives me a bear hug, but he does that with everyone.”

A hush follows Lio’s confession, during which Meis and Gueira blink at him in anticipation. “I… I think Galo doesn’t know I like him. Romantically, I mean.”

For once, they stare at him with identical disbelief.

“There’s no way he doesn’t know,” Meis tries to reassure him, but the uncertainty on his face is unmistakable. He glances at Gueira. “...Is there?”

Gueira shakes his head vigorously. “No, no way he doesn’t know. Even _ I _can tell you have a big, fat crush on him.” There’s a pause as Gueira searches his memory for all the ways Lio has been overt about his affections. “Yeah, it’s totally obvious. If he can’t tell, he’s dumber than I am.”

“Oh, really?” Meis grumbles dryly, glowering and resisting the urge to shake Gueira by the collar. “Wow, he must be pretty dumb.”

“Yeah,” Gueira mindlessly agrees. “The signs that you've been sending his way might as well be Fennel Volcano erupting again. It’s sad that Galo doesn’t get them like I do.” He doesn’t see the exasperated gestures Meis makes at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this idea is p cliche but i love it anyway  
also don't ask me what the soap opera thing was about bc i don't know either (feel free to make it up tho)


	2. Though the Embers Are New (Whatever You Do)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lio learns something that leaves him wondering exactly how much he doesn't know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh sorry it's been so long  
a lot of stuff happened these past two months and my mental state was... weird  
but i managed to write MOST of the rest of this story, so expect sooner updates!

It’s one week after Lio’s fruitless consultation with Gueira and Meis, and now the universe is openly mocking Lio, deciding that he’s had it a little too good for a little too long. The evidence differentiating Lio’s hypothesis from paranoia is pretty substantial, because that evidence is Galo tip-toeing around him for the past week. Galo’s never been good at keeping secrets, and the number of furtive glances he sends Lio’s way from a safe distance is only a testament of his determination to make sure Lio is out of the loop.

Of course, this does nothing but force Lio’s <strike> paranoia</strike> theory-making into overdrive. What could be so important that Galo Thymos, famous for his lack of brain-to-mouth filter, would sneak around Lio to this extent? The immediate answer Lio comes up with is: _ Galo found out I have a crush on him and is trying to soften the blow for when he turns me down. _

(Unfortunately, Lio’s so preoccupied with this possibility that it’s the _ only _ explanation he thinks is plausible.)

And to his dismay, everyone else at Burning Rescue Station 3 seems to be in on it. Whispers and giggles follow Lio around the firehouse, as do the expectant eyes of his co-workers. The single thought keeping him from spiralling at this point is the fact that it would be severely out of character for anyone at Burning Rescue to find humor in what may be the most embarrassing event in Lio’s very short romantic history. After all, they’d shown support for Aina when she was nursing her wounded pride when Galo turned her down last year.

Maybe that isn’t the case with Lio Fotia, though. He’s been around for a shorter amount of time, he’s the ex-leader of an arsonist freedom fighter biker gang, and he, admittedly, is not the easiest person to get along with.

_ But Meis and Gueira are in the same boat as you, _ his rational mind argues. _ And they’re doing just fine in Burning Rescue. _

At the end of this very long week, Lio resigns and amends his reasoning for the persistent unease to: _ Burning Rescue knows something I don’t, and Galo is at the center of it. _

  
  
  


The first thing Lio learns regarding his new rationale comes from an unexpected source. He arrives at the firehouse early Tuesday morning, subtly dodging Galo for their joint shift. Stepping into the lounge, he hears voices carry from the break room where Ignis and Remi are already having a quiet discussion over cheap, disgusting morning coffee.

Lio, by necessity during his years on the run, has a very cat-like habit of walking with almost no sound. He’s startled more than a few people by unwittingly sneaking up on them, but consciously putting effort into changing the way he naturally moves is more trouble than it’s worth. In this particular instance, however, he can’t decide if it’s more hindrance or help.

“...but isn’t that something Lio would want?” Remi’s voice is just above a whisper, but still clear enough that Lio can hear him properly. The topic is obviously a sensitive one, and the nature of it piques Lio’s curiosity.

Ignis grunts in disagreement. His voice is equally careful when he says, “It might seem that way, but the only one who knows for sure is Lio. That’s a gamble Galo’s willing to bet on all the same.”

“Either way, things are going to change between them, no matter what Galo says about him and Lio. ‘Damned if you don’t, damned if you do’, so the saying goes.”

Ah, they’re discussing the new tension between Galo and Lio. The terms used are… vague, at best, but Lio can guess at the details if they keep on—

“Captain!” Galo’s voice booms from somewhere behind Lio, who frantically scrambles back from the doorway to the break room. There’s nowhere to hide between the break room and Galo, and Lio makes the split decision that getting caught eavesdropping is preferable to seeing Galo at this point.

Ignis and Remi flinch when Lio darts in, but he pays them no heed and instead dashes straight for the door leading to the back alley.

  
  
  


In the break room, Ignis and Remi stare at the back door in mutual silence, wordlessly coming to an agreement on two things. The first is that one of them will need to pull Lio aside later and ascertain how much of their conversation he heard. The second is they won’t tell Galo that Lio may have heard some sensitive information, or Galo might rush to conclusions.

Remi contemplates the back door a moment longer as it closes with a soft click, wondering what made Lio breeze past them. The captain turns to the doorway, having heard Galo’s yells.

“Galo, don’t shout,” he scolds. Galo comes into view and approaches them at a jog.

“Captain, I have another question!” To emphasize his immediacy, Galo slams his palms down on the table with excessive force. Coffee sloshes out of Remi’s mug, spattering the front of his uniform. That earns Galo a scowl, but all Remi can actively think is _ ‘for once, I’m grateful that this cup is lukewarm’. _

A sigh escapes Ignis, who has become accustomed to placating Galo’s inane and oddly specific worries this past week. “What is it this time?”

Galo takes a deep breath, as he always does before his over-the-top introductions and speeches, and Remi mentally shields himself from what nonsense Galo can drum up at 6:52 in the morning.

“Does your necklace get super hot if you’re too close to fire for too long?”

  
  
  


Standing in the back alley between Burning Rescue and the surrounding buildings has Lio contemplating his life choices. Back when he had the Promare, so many things depended on his capabilities as a Burnish leader that he hadn’t had time for relationships and social tension. Now he’s hiding from his first crush in a decade because his co-workers are making him nervous.

Lio meanders around the corner of the alleyway, sticking to the outer walls of the station. It wouldn’t do any good if Galo comes poking his head around the back door, but Lio needs time to collect his nerves. Deep down, he knows that Ignis will have a few words for him, and he’s still a smidge intimidated by the captain’s imposing presence.

In the meantime, Lio wonders about the meaning behind the conversation he overheard. Best case scenario: Remi and Ignis were discussing how likely Lio was to appreciate a surprise mystery gift Galo is planning (a situation which, frankly, is impossible). Worst case scenario: Burning Rescue is privy to Galo’s sinister plot resulting in Lio’s unemployment or death (a situation which is equally impossible).

The truth, in its likelihood and believability, is usually between the extremes. However, both these words describe Lio’s initial assumptions about Galo’s secrecy, and he’s left with the growing feeling of dread as he considers how much sense it makes. Everyone knows Galo’s going to turn him down.

Galo is a good person. At times, his wholesomeness serves as a detriment. If Galo is confessed to by a friend he whose sentiments he can’t return, he’ll go out of his way to ensure their friendship doesn’t end. Last year, Aina had been so smothered by Galo’s attempts at friendliness that she’d taken a month-long job helping Heris research the ruins of Prometh Deus’ lake lab just to have the time and space she needed to recover her bruised ego.

But Lio has had a much longer time to fall in love with Galo. Would a month be enough to heal a broken heart?

After a few minutes, Ignis emerges from the alleyway entrance alone. He stops a few feet in, giving Lio the choice to approach on his own terms.

_ Well, it’s not like a one-on-one with the captain is going to make things any more awkward than they already are_, Lio rationalizes. He steps up, not looking Ignis in the eyes.

“So. Did you want to talk about this morning?” Ignis asks, direct as ever.

“Not really, no,” Lio admits. For a long while, Ignis studies him in silence.

“We’ll have to talk about it some time.”

“I know. Just… not right now,” Lio lies. He’ll make up any excuse to not talk about it, especially with the Captain.

Ignis hums. “Galo knows you already clocked in. Told him you went for a coffee run.”

Lio grimaces. Preferably, Ignis would have left Lio to come up with a cover story on his own. “Now Galo’s going to expect a morning frappuccino, which I don’t have.”

An eyebrow is raised at him. “You have twenty minutes to get one,” Ignis suggests, checking his watch nonchalantly.

“No,” Lio sighs, gesturing dismissively down the alleyway. “We always go to the same coffee shop down the road, but it’s a fifteen-minute walk one way. And I’ve been out here for a while.”

They stand in a silence that is between companionable and awkward, and Lio is about to give up and face the consequences of a devastated, frappuccino-less Galo when Ignis tosses something at him. Whatever it is almost hits Lio in the nose.

It’s a key. Lio stares at it, trying to figure out what it unlocks.

“Take my bike,” Ignis tells him in a resigned tone. “If you mess her up, I’ll have you foot the repair bill.”

This is… more than shocking. It’s also more generosity than Lio expects to be shown. Ignis once chewed Galo out for tapping the exhaust pipe during a particularly shoddy parking job, and then he’d taken to parking her in a separate garage in the apparatus bay. Now, that same Ignis is willingly giving Lio permission to drive his beloved motorcycle out in a desperate attempt to corroborate Lio’s alibi and appease Galo.

Ignis saunters off before Lio can say anything back.

Twenty-two minutes, zero vehicular mishaps, and one unquestioned frappuccino later, Lio’s thoughts wander back to the motivation behind Ignis’ favor. 

And he can’t help thinking that Ignis’ kindness is a pre-emptive buffer to soften the inevitable blow of Galo’s rejection.

  
  
  


Meis and Gueira sip at their drinks as they listen to Lio’s worries with varying degrees of interest. Gueira, who clearly did not learn from their last cafe rendezvous, is once again wearing Meis’ sunglasses while Meis himself squints at the sun he wishes he could obliterate. A good chunk of their lunch hour has been spent placating their former boss, to no avail.

“Boss,” Meis starts, “you can’t assume the worst if you don’t have any solid evidence."

“Yeah,” chimes Gueira around a mouthful of muffin. He forces a swallow and speaks through crumbs. “You dunno what they were talking about. It could be your gift theory, and Galo’s just super anxious about if you’ll like it.”

Lio shakes his head. “That doesn’t explain why the Captain lent me his bike. There’s no way he’d even let me _ look _ at her if Galo wasn’t going to reject me.”

Meis rolls his eyes. “First off, I hope you know how ridiculous that sounds, Boss. The Captain’s a great guy who trusts you around his bike because, unlike Galo, you’re not an accident waiting to happen.” He pauses to bat Gueira’s sneaking fingers away from his uneaten muffin. “Hands off, you already had four of these. Second, I agree with Gueira.”

“You do?” Gueira asks.

“Yeah,” Meis scoffs. “All this so-called hype around the station? Definitely because Galo’s planning something stupid-big to surprise you, and everyone’s excited for him.”

Gueira pushes the sunglasses up to sit on his head. “You gotta admit, Boss,” he says breezily, “it makes way more sense than the high school-level drama you’re imagining.” The profound truth is undercut by the fact that Gueira’s eye contact is with the muffin instead of Lio.

Ignoring the sound arguments his friends give, Lio chooses to instead focus on other, equally important things, such as: “Gueira, why did you take Meis’ sunglasses again if you’re not even going to wear them?”

Gueira’s too busy side-eyeing the last muffin to pay attention, but Meis jumps in.

“It’s fine, Boss,” he sighs, pushing the muffin at last towards Gueira’s eager hands. “I don’t mind.”

Lio hums noncommittally, narrowing his eyes at the 60% of muffin that crumbles out of Gueira’s mouth and onto the table. “And you’re sure he’s _ the one_?”

Pink colors Meis’ cheeks, his mouth pressing into a hard line. “...Yes,” he mumbles grudgingly, brushing away stray crumbs.

“Who’s the one?” Gueira asks, glancing between them. “Meis’ mystery man?”

“Stop calling him that!” Meis pleads, burying his face in his hands.

Gueira perches his chin in the palm of one hand with an exaggerated sigh. “You’re gonna have to introduce us eventually, Meis. I wanna meet the guy who gets you all hot an’ bothered.”

In response, Meis slams his face—still cradled in his hands—onto the table. _ “Stop saying it like that!” _

  
  
  


Lio unlocks the front door to his and Galo’s apartment hesitantly. His lunch date with Meis and Gueira was a welcome reprieve from the turmoil of his situation, but avoiding Galo at work without being super obvious that he was avoiding Galo was a _ nightmare _.

Today, it seemed that no matter how much work Lio pretended to be doing, Galo needed to talk to him for some reason or another. Was Galo always that clingy at work? Lio’s been too busy gay-panicking through their entire friendship to properly notice.

And he’s no closer to finding out what Galo’s up to than he was a week ago. No matter what anyone says, it’s still a toss-up between a surprise gift from Galo or getting axed.

With a deep sigh, Lio pulls out ingredients from the fridge to start dinner. It’s his turn this week, and Galo had gotten an extra box of noodles in case Lio burned the spaghetti. _ Again. _ Lio sneers at the extra noodles and diverts all his energy, good and bad, into making double the amount of spaghetti so perfectly that Galo will choke in his rush to vacuum it all down.

Lio does exactly that! He even remembers to garnish with an additional sprinkling (or flood) of parmesan and a sprig of basil (or maybe it’s parsley?). The excitement of showing off his culinary prowess to Galo overrides the nervousness of the last few days, and he sets the table so they can eat as soon as Galo gets home.

And he waits. Lio sends Galo a glamorous pic of the meal that sits on their table. He doesn’t get a reply.

And he waits. Lio’s getting a little worried. He calls Galo and goes to voicemail. There’s still no reply to his text.

And he waits. At least an hour has gone by since Lio set the table. Galo got off work at a normal time, but he’d rushed off somewhere immediately after clocking out. It’s unlike him to stay out past dinner without letting Lio know first. 

A voice hisses from the dark recesses of his mind. _ It’s because whatever Galo’s doing has nothing to do with you. _

_ Shut up, _Lio tells it.

And the front door finally slams open.

“LIO!” Galo bellows from the entrance, sweaty and out of breath. “Sorry I didn’t get home right away!” He hurriedly pulls off his boots and flings his jacket haphazardly towards the living room. “I went to the store and my phone had to be turned off and then I got kicked out of the store for taking too long and I only remembered to check my phone when I was on my bike!”

Relief washes over Lio. Then annoyance. “I made the spaghetti perfectly this time and you let it get cold!”

“It’ll still be good!” Galo protests. He picks up their plates and heads for the microwave. “It looks amazing! And it doesn’t smell like anything caught on fire this time!”

Lio flicks a loose sprig of parsley (basil?) garnish at Galo with a pout. “I made sure I didn’t boil all the water away, _ and _ I remembered to drain the noodles before they got mushy.”

“You’re a fast learner,” Galo tells him, smiling. “I’m really proud of you!”

Redirecting his eyes from that blinding supernova is a challenge, but Lio manages to respond in a timely manner. “‘S not a big deal,” he mumbles. “You should save your amazement for when I can make something that isn’t basic, like a full-course meal.”

“Or pizza!” Galo suggests, setting down their reheated dinner.

“Or pizza,” Lio agrees. “Hey, you said you got kicked out of a store?”

Galo freezes mid-bite, and most of the spaghetti on his fork falls with a comedic _ splat_. “Well, not really. I couldn’t decide what to get, and they had to close up.”

Lio hums in acknowledgement and tucks his hair back behind his ears. It’d be annoying to have to wash it again today just because he inadvertently dipped it in spaghetti sauce. He chews carefully, slowly, thinking about how the spaghetti tastes and feels in his mouth. He’s bragged about it to Galo, but it doesn’t hurt to double check the results of his culinary efforts.

It’s weirdly… sweet?

When he looks up to gauge Galo’s reaction, he finds that Galo is already staring at him. Sheepishly, Galo glances down at his plate.

“It’s sweet,” Lio reports, in case Galo’s taste buds are broken. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Galo gulps down his mouthful. “Wasn’t it on purpose?”

Lio stops to think about what could have gone wrong in his cooking process—and groans in frustration. “No, it wasn’t on purpose. I grabbed the sugar instead of salt when I was boiling the noodles and seasoning the sauce.”

“Eh,” Galo says, shrugging. “It’s still really good.”

Lio throws another sprig of garnish at him. “That’s because your taste buds are definitely broken! ...But thanks. For thinking it’s still good.”

“Well, duh, it’s still good,” Galo huffs. “You worked hard on it! And it’s delicious whether or not you mixed up the sugar and salt!”

The praise, though not unexpected, warms Lio’s ears. He spends the rest of the meal listening to Galo babble about whatever, wondering for the nth time if everything about their relationship from their first meeting to falling in love is fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've seen promare a total of 6 times and i wish i could have seen it in 4dx again


	3. The Sun (Hung From a String)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the biggest backstab comes from right beside you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. it's been a month and three days.  
my only defense is that two and a half weeks of that time technically belonged to my mom's idea of a family vacation and not me.

Lio’s really, really sure that the universe is deliberately screwing with him now. He’s stuck in the utility closet near the apparatus bay, paper towel roll in hand, because Varys and Lucia haven’t bothered to check that he isn’t there before discussing Galo’s Super Secret Secret.

He’s trying to block out the overloud conversation they’re having. He really is! But he already missed the window of opportunity for “leave the utility closet without being suspected of eavesdropping”, and Varys and Lucia are competing to be heard over the echoing cacophony of their welding and tinkering.

The only saving grace Lio has is the fact that Varys and Lucia aren’t discussing Galo’s Super Secret Secret in specific terms, but rather interrupting each other in some vague semblance of an exchange of information.

“Is he really?” Lucia asks.

“He really is,” Varys answers.

“For real?”

“For real.”

“And he’s gonna—?”

“Hell yeah, he’s gonna—”

“I wanna film—!”

“Hell no, that’s priv—”

“But Galo’s—!”

“And Lio’s—”

“Right, he’s not—”

“He’d prob’ly quit if it—”

How on earth are they actually understanding any of what is being said? Lio chalks it up to a sturdy friendship built on strange wavelengths. Whatever the case, he’s been in the utility closet with the paper towels for way too long, and Lio needs to clean up the juice spill in the break room before Remi can lay into him for getting the floor all sticky.

Taking a deep breath, he bursts out of the closet and makes a mad dash for the break room. Lucia and Varys are probably too occupied with their machinery to notice him, and he clings to that hope without checking. An awkward interrogation is the last thing he needs.

Unfortunately, Lucia and Varys _do_ notice Lio blasting out of the utility closet. They may be busy with their mech, but they’re still on alert for sirens or another team member calling in an emergency. Varys purses his lips when he and Lucia share a concerned look, but Lucia ultimately shrugs her shoulders. Without another word, she flips her welding helmet back down and motions for Varys to do the same.

Instead, Varys raises an eyebrow at her. “Shouldn’t we talk to him?” he prompts. “We don’t know how much he heard, or how much he knows. It might be bad.”

“Eh,” Lucia grunts, waving a hand flippantly. “It’ll be fine. Lio’s smart, he probably knows already. Now c’mon.” She taps her helmet, but Varys’ frown deepens.

“No, I really think we should talk to him,” he insists. “We might’ve messed things up.”

Lucia pulls her helmet off dramatically, so Varys can see the face she pulls. “Ugh, fiiiiine. I’ll go do damage control. You keep welding, I wanna get a test run in before dinner.”

Satisfied with her verdict, Varys nods and gets to work as Lucia drags herself through the station in search of Lio.

Lio is in the process of scrubbing the floor entirely too vigorously when Lucia plops herself down next to him, straddling the back of her chair.

“So,” she starts, warping her words in her sing-song cadence. “How much d’you know?”

Lio falters mid-scrub. He should’ve expected her to be direct about this. “...Enough,” he lies.

“_Enough_,” she parrots back mockingly, staring him down hard. “C’mon, Lio. It’ll be better for both of us if you just tell me how much you know about… _the thing_.”

“I know enough,” Lio reiterates, pointedly scrubbing harder. “The… _thing_ is fine.”

“Uh huh.” Lucia taps Lio’s roll of paper towels with the tip of her shoe, knocking it over. “I’d believe you if you didn’t look so constipated. C’mon, Lio, I’m not gonna tell anyone what you tell me, I just wanna know what you know.”

Out of exasperation, Lio throws the wet paper towels down with a loud _thwack_, crosses his arms, and tries to level Lucia with an intimidating glare, which is hard to do when he’s sitting on his heels in front of spilled mixed berry punch. “Lucia, next to Galo and Gueira, you are the last person I’d trust to keep something confidential.”

She puts a hand to her chest in an overexaggerated display of affront. “Ugh, how rude! I can keep a secret way better than Galo!”

“Last month, you and Gueira ruined the Captain’s surprise birthday party because you asked him which bakery his husband was buying cake from.”

Lucia scoffs, rolling her eyes and adjusting her goggles atop her head. “If you guys had just _told_ us that Nereus was baking the cake this year, then we wouldn’t have blown it.”

Lio rolls his eyes back at her and tears off more paper towels. “Point is, I wouldn’t trust the three of you to keep a secret, especially when it involves Galo.”

“Ohoh, so you admit that you know Galo’s involved!” Lucia says triumphantly. “And if Galo and Gueira and I are so bad at keeping secrets, then how come the three of us haven’t spilled the beans about it yet?”

They notice her slip of the tongue at the same time. Lucia scrunches up her face. “Shit. I lost the bet.”

“Gueira knows the secret? _Gueira?_” Lio demands. “And what bet did you lose?”

Lucia hunches over the back of her chair, groaning. “I lost ten bucks to everyone in the squad because I slipped up first.” She looks to the doorway leading to the lounge. “Well, everyone ‘cept you and Meis. And Vinny, because he’s a rat. But I have to let him have a full slice of my pizza at the next—”

“That’s not important,” Lio interrupts. “How much does Guiera know?”

Lucia shrugs at him. “Eh, I’unno. I got left out of the loop this time too, probably ‘cause Galo knew something like this would happen,” she says, gesturing between them. “‘Sides, even if I _did_ know something, why would I tell you?”

“And Meis, why was he left out?”

She taps her chin, pondering for only a few seconds. “Because he’s too loyal?” she guesses. “He can keep a secret, but only if it doesn’t involve you or your happiness.”

“So Galo’s secret definitely involves me and my happiness,” Lio concludes. Lucia makes a frustrated sound and kicks out at him, missing by a few inches.

“I should stop talking to you,” she grumbles, scowling. “Now I owe everyone fifteen bucks.”

“Really, though,” Lio sighs, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Will Galo’s secret affect my happiness?”

Lucia sticks her tongue out at him, scooting the chair away as loudly as she can.

“Will it?” Lio asks again, raising his voice. “Lucia, please, I have to know.”

Her fingers drum a beat without rhythm as she considers his plea. “Galo’s secret involves you,” she relents, “but whether or not you’re happy depends on you, Lio.”

Lio throws up his hands. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“It means what it means!” Lucia retorts. “Are you afraid of commitment?!”

“And what the fuck does that mean?!”

Apparently satisfied with the confusion and headache she’s caused, Lucia swings around and stands, pushing the chair back into its place in one fluid motion. “By the way,” she says, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the supply closet next to the fridge. “Paper towels aren’t gonna cut it. You’re gonna have to mop up or else Remi’s gonna nag you about not knowing basic sanitation. His words, not mine.”

Lio exhales forcibly through his nose and heaves himself up towards the supply closet.

“...Boss, I do love free food,” Gueira says through a half-chewed cookie, “but even _I_ think you’re freaking out about this too much.”

“For real,” Meis agrees, fiddling with the bill of his FDPP cap. “This is the third time in, like, ten days that you’ve called us for a ‘consultation’.” He holds up one of the cookies on Gueira’s overflowing plate for emphasis. “We’ve met at this cafe so often that Gueira’s eaten his way through most of the menu.”

Gueira nods enthusiastically. “Thanks for paying, though. Meis, that one’s garbage, try this one.”

“Noted,” Meis sighs, trading the cookie for a chocolate-covered croissant. “At least you have some intel to work with now. So what’d you learn today?”

_I learned that Gueira’s a damn traitor,_ Lio wants to say, but that’d be unfair. Instead, he settles for saying, “Me and my happiness are at stake.”

“Oh ho _ho,_” Gueira chuckles, leaning back in his seat with a devious grin. He lifts his (Meis’) sunglasses so Lio gets the full effect of him waggling his eyebrows. _Traitor._ “Sounds exciting, Boss.”

“It sure sounds like good news, so why’d you say it like the world’s gonna end again?” Meis asks.

“Because!” Lio exclaims, gesticulating wildly with one hand. “I have no way of knowing what Galo’s planning, and I have no idea if it involves my happiness directly or if it’s just an unfortunate byproduct of whatever’s happening.”

Meis takes a second to gather his thoughts. “You mean… your concern is the actual surprise Galo has?”

“Yeah,” Lio nods. “He’s gonna do it either way. If it’s something like he got us a really nice coffee maker, that’s fine. I’d be happy whether we have a new one or not. If it’s some grand, complicated gesture that hinges on my reaction being positive, I’m not sure I’d appreciate the idea.”

“A grand, complicated gesture like…” Gueira prompts.

“Like redecorating,” Lio suggests. “Or Galo moving out.”

Meis groans, lolling his head around tiredly. “Why are you so negative about this, Boss? Why can’t you just imagine that he’s finally getting the balls to ask you out?”

“Yeah, or something like that?” Gueira insists eagerly. Lio is on the verge of revealing his traitor status on impulse when his phone starts blaring Galo’s ringtone.

“Hang on,” Lio urges them. “Galo’s calling.”

“Maybe we’ll finally get to the end of this,” Meis mutters.

Gueira grins excitedly. “Put ‘im on speaker!” Lio rolls his eyes, but complies and holds his phone face up at the center of their table.

_“Hey, firebug! Hope I’m not bothering you,” _Galo greets him through the tinny phone speaker. Lio attempts to hide his blush with his hair, but fails as Gueira pokes his cheek teasingly. _“I gotta ask you something.”_

Across from Lio, Gueira’s face contorts in surprise. “…He’s telling you over the phone?” Meis nudges him to be quiet.

Lio narrows his eyes at Gueira. Did his shock about the call mean that Galo should be talking to Lio about whatever this was in person?

_“Was that Gueira?”_ Galo asks.

“Yeah,” Lio responds coolly, despite his blushing. “I’m at that café with him and Meis right now.”

_“Oh, perfect! They weren’t answering, so the Captain said to check with you.”_

Lio glances up at Meis and Gueira with an arched eyebrow, the former of whom merely shrugs. Gueira frowns and digs into his pocket for his phone. “Did you need them for something?”

_“Just Gueira, actually. Captain said—"_

“Oh, fuck!” Gueira yelps, pocketing his phone. “My lunch break ended five minutes ago!” He hastily pulls his uniform jacket on and scrambles to his feet.

Meis lets out a resigned sigh. “I’ll get the rest of this”—he motions at the still half-full plate of baked goods—“to go and bring ‘em home for you.”

“Aw, thanks, Meis!” Gueira exclaims, pressing a loud kiss to Meis’ cheek. “You’re the best, see you at home!” And he takes off without looking back.

Lio stares after Gueira with wide eyes until he rounds the corner and shifts his gaze to Meis, whose mouth has fallen half open. There’s a significant shade of red that’s spreading down to his neck, and it’s the most color Lio has ever seen on Meis’ face. Undoubtedly, Meis is struggling to comprehend the last ten seconds of his life.

_“…Is he on his way now?” _Galo asks innocently. _“Did something happen?”_

“I, uh,” Lio snickers. “Tell you later, at home?”

_“Oh, okay…” _Galo pauses, but doesn’t hang up._ “Don’t forget, it’s my turn to make dinner tonight! See you at home, firebug!”_

Galo hangs up immediately after, leaving Meis and Lio to themselves.

Unwilling to be the one to break the silence, Lio clamps his mouth into a hard line, trying to suppress his laughter, which is what breaks Meis out of his stupor.

“What the hell are you laughing at?!” Meis splutters, whipping his head around to Lio. “What am I supposed to do when he gets home later? What if he did that without thinking?!”

“Without thinking,” Lio repeats through giggles. “Doesn’t that describe almost everything Gueira does anyway?”

“Shut up,” Meis grumbles, worriedly flipping the bill of his cap up and down. “What if it’s one of those things you do as a knee-jerk reaction, like apologizing when you bump into a chair, or when a waiter says _‘enjoy your food’_ and you say _‘you too’_?”

“Like I said, he did it without thinking,” Lio hums knowingly. “Which means that it was such a natural thing for Gueira to do that he just… _did _it.”

Meis squints at him hard, the disbelief on his face not dissipating in the slightest. “You really think so?”

Lio snorts through his nose. “I may not have been the leader of Mad Burnish for long, but it was enough time to know exactly how much Gueira acts on base instinct alone. Which is basically always, for everything.”

It takes Meis a few more pensive moments to relax into a soft grin. “…I should tell ‘im.”

“Definitely tell him,” Lio says. “You’ve got a bigger chance of Gueira liking you back than I do with Galo.”

This, apparently, is the wrong thing to say, because Meis scowls, takes a deep breath, and slowly leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Alright, Boss. I didn’t wanna have to do this, but I’m cuttin’ you a deal.”

“A deal?” Lio’s eyebrows knit together. “What kind of deal? About what?”

“Gueira and Galo. We both got three days to confess to them.”

At that, Lio chokes on his water. “Three days? That’s… soon.”

“Boss, you and I both know that you think too much. If I don’t give you a time limit, you’ll just keep making plans and backup plans and backup backup plans, and you’ll never get around to tellin’ the big lug how you feel.”

Lio frowns. It never hurt to be prepared for any and all scenarios, but a time limit would help cut down on the number of contingencies he believed necessary. “...Fine,” he huffs. “And, theoretically, what would happen if I don’t go through with this?”

“If you don’t tell,” Meis drawls, leaning forward with a smirk, “then I tell. And I’ll make sure you’re there to watch Galo’s reaction. Theoretically.”

Lio slams a fist on the table, trying to hide the sudden spike in his anxiety. “You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Meis stands from the table and extends a hand to Lio. “If you prefer, I could just go ahead and tell Galo right now.”

Lio all but snarls as he begrudgingly accepts Meis’ deal. “What about you?” he grouches, squeezing harder than necessary. “How do you know I won’t run and tell Gueira about your sorry, underhanded, pining ass?”

Rather than the nervousness Lio expects at his empty threat, Meis flashes him a shit-eating grin brimming with confidence. “Because you know that exposing my secret means I expose yours, Boss. Thanks for the food.”

And with that, Meis waltzes off as though he hasn’t backed Lio into a corner.

Sadly, the effect of Meis’ power move drops to zero when Lio, glowering all the while, has to watch him scurry back to the table for Gueira’s leftovers.

Hours later, Lio slams his way into the apartment in a sour mood, beelining for the room he shares with Galo. What the hell had he been thinking, accepting Meis’ stupid bet like that? If he’d thought about it a bit more, he would have realized that Meis was all bark and no bite, since there was a very real possibility of Lio’s heart being shattered into a billion and ten pieces. No matter how conniving Meis is, he’d never intentionally put Lio in harm’s way.

…Right?

Well, whether Meis tells Galo or Lio himself confesses, heartache is still possible. Accepting the bet just holds Lio accountable. He clicks his tongue and bellyflops onto his twin-sized bed, stress-screaming into the pillows.

After a few seconds of silence, there’s a warm hand on his back, stroking gentle circles. Lio sullenly peels his face off the sheets and meets Galo’s eyes.

Galo is kneeling down so they’re face to face, offering an honest smile. “Welcome home, bug,” he greets Lio in a soft tone. “You wanna talk about it, or you wanna eat?”

Lio considers his options, and the mere thought of talking to Galo about what has him screaming brings a rush of butterflies to his core. The feeling is so sudden it makes him slightly nauseous, but Lio squeaks out, “Eat.”

“Okay,” Galo answers, moving into the kitchen. “Ginger and lemon tea for your throat?”

“I’m good,” Lio sighs. He flips himself over to take a few deep breaths, hoping he’ll calm down, praying that he can come up with the guts to confess.

There’s a strong, fresh smell permeating the air that Lio hasn’t noticed until now. He breathes it in deeply, hungrily, racking his brain for the name of it. His stomach growls at the promise of food.

He sits up so quickly that he’s dizzy for a few short seconds, then rockets himself out of their bedroom and into his seat at the dining table. Galo’s already working on plating Lio’s portion of—

_Homemade baked bacon mac ‘n cheese._

“How do you always know?” Lio asks as he eyes his plate impatiently, jittering slightly. Of all the dishes Galo is currently capable of making, it’s Lio’s favorite. Galo’s rendition always comes out perfect—stretchy cheese and crispy bacon, with a crunchy bread crumb crust. And whether it’s by sheer dumb luck or some freaky precognitive ability, Galo seems to make it whenever Lio needs a pick-me-up.

Galo shrugs, setting aside the casserole dish and sitting himself down. “Just, uh, had a feeling.”

Though he knows it’s a little rude, Lio doesn’t bother waiting to tuck in. With the first bite, he lets familiarity and comfort take over his overwrought nerves and relaxes. He might have also let out an almost erotic moan, judging by the way Galo’s biting down his laughter.

“Shut up,” Lio mumbles, a little embarrassed. “’S good an’ you know it.”

Galo shakes his head. “I still think the place two streets over has better baked mac ‘n cheese—”

“Yours has bacon and theirs doesn’t,” Lio interrupts, pointing his fork at Galo. “Automatic disqualification.”

There’s no response. Lio glances up, one brow raised quizzically. Galo is uncharacteristically listless, distractedly picking at his food instead of inhaling it as usual. He’s rubbing an earlobe almost mindlessly in contemplation of something.

Before Lio can ask what’s wrong, his phone buzzes twice in quick succession. A text from Meis? He pulls his phone out and sets it on the table, navigating with the hand that’s not shoveling mac ‘n cheese.

_Your turn._

That’s all the message says. Lio opens it up to reply when another text comes through, and—

“Son of a bitch,” Lio hisses, sneering at his phone. Fury builds up the longer he stares at it, and the realization sinks in: _he’s been duped_. That lanky asshole of an ex-lieutenant had already decided he was going to act, even before he’d strong-armed Lio into a fake agreement. “Mother_fucker!”_

“Who is?” Galo asks innocently, leaning forward to peer at Lio’s screen. Lio flings the device across the tablecloth out of indignation with more force than necessary, causing it to ram into Galo’s plate. “Oh! Gueira and Meis finally got together!”

The picture in question is of the new couple. Though the shot is from the chest up, it’s glaringly obvious that Meis and Gueira are cuddling naked and in bed. And, to Lio’s irritation, the litany of bruises along Gueira’s neck and tangled mess of Meis’ hair are further testament to their illicit activities beforehand.

“Huh.” Galo picks up the phone to squint at the picture. “They work fast.”

“They sure do,” Lio spits venomously, stabbing at his dinner. Freakin’ Meis and his obsession with speed, of _course _he’d pull a stunt like this. Why did Lio ever let himself get swept up in his stupid schemes?!

“…Did something happen between you and Meis after I hung up this afternoon?” Galo asks hesitantly, offering Lio his phone back. “I thought you’d be happy for them.”

Lio puts his fork down and closes his eyes, inhaling sharply in an effort to calm himself down, and accepts the phone. “You’re right about both of those things. I made a bet with Meis that I just lost, so I’m pissed off at him, but I should still congratulate him.”

_Congrats, asshole, _Lio punches into the reply window. He sends it off with a glare and has to consciously stop himself from slamming the phone down.

Satisfied with having placated Lio, Galo shifts the conversation topic. “What was the bet about?”

The queasiness returns tenfold, and Lio tries not to betray his emotions on his face. “You’ll find out soon. In the next few days.”

Galo simply hums at this answer, and the discussion dies there.

But the reality of having to confess within three days does nothing for Lio’s nerves, and both his stomach and head feel like they’re being wrung out. Despite his best efforts, Lio can’t bring himself to sit through the rest of dinner pretending that nothing is wrong, because Galo would definitely notice and the truth would have to come out there and then.

So Lio, for the first time since he began living with Galo, leaves food on his plate and retires to bed early, allowing his mind to fall back on endless simulations of what to do when Galo turns him down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i watched a hypnosis video for improving concentration and wrote like half of this chapter in one sitting. i'm not sure what that says about me.
> 
> and i couldn't find a good way to work this into the chapter, but the hat that meis is wearing was originally gueira's. gueira didn't like it (bc his hair) so meis caved and traded gueira for his sunglasses. too bad he didn't think of just. buying his own sunglasses.


	4. A Collapsing Star (With Tunnel Vision)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lio works up the nerve to confess at the worst possible time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...ssssssssorry

Lio is confident—confident that he's never been so hesitant and scared about telling the truth. The dawn of the "agreement" deadline arrives, and Lio can feel the unease and nausea rolling in like a thick fog.

Breakfast doesn't exist today. Literally. The dining table isn't set for breakfast, which means that Galo hasn't made anything. It's odd for Galo to miss out on food duty, but just as well; Lio doesn't think he'd be able to hold anything down. He knows nothing about seasickness, but it's probably comparable to the churning in his gut.

The rest of his morning routine passes in a haze, and Lio gets to the station fully unprepared to confront Galo with the truth.

Except Galo is nowhere to be seen.

Galo's bike is in the apparatus bay, so he at least made it to the station that morning, but Galo isn't in any of his usual hangouts. Confusion and relief flood Lio at once—if he can put off confessing until after their shift ends, it’ll be better than awkwardly avoiding Galo all day.

Despite his relief, he can’t help but be worried about Galo. Lio hasn’t seen him even once, even though it’s been three hours since he got to work. He already double- and triple-checked that Galo’s bike was actually parked in the bay and wasn’t a hallucination. No one’s complaining about Galo bumming out in a new hiding spot. The Captain hasn’t interrogated Lio on Galo’s whereabouts. There haven’t been any calls today, either.

All of this points to Galo being at the station, which he’s clearly not. So if he’s not at the station and no one’s angry about it, where could he possibly be?

Lio is just finishing up a rather shoddily-done piece of paperwork (that he promises to re-do later with a clearer head) when Gueira rushes over to his desk, snickering and grinning giddily. Meis follows not too far behind.

"You sure know how to pick 'em, Boss," Meis drawls dryly, clearly amused. He plonks down at his desk next to Lio’s with a weary sigh, smirking all the while.

"Why? What's going on?" Lio puts his pen down, bracing himself for any kind of bad news.

Gueira jabs a thumb behind him, in the direction of the apparatus bay. "Captain got a call about Galo causin’ a ruckus, and Aina just got back from escortin’ him!”

Lio simply blinks, puzzled. “And why is that funny?”

“See for yourself,” Meis says airily, eyes glistening with mirth.

While Meis and Gueira aren’t _mean_, they do have a tendency to find humor in others’ misfortunes, especially where Galo’s concerned. Can Lio really be faulted for worrying about what dumb shit Galo’s gotten himself into this time?

Lio heaves himself up from his desk, sighing with equal parts relief and exasperation, and makes his way to the apparatus bay, where someone’s already yelling.

“Honestly, Galo, did you even think that through?!” Aina’s scolding booms throughout the station, though no one else seems bothered by it. Her lectures to Galo on proper conduct are nearly a monthly occurrence.

“Well, yeah! I thought about it really hard, and that was the best thing I could come up with!” Galo argues back.

“The best thing—? Galo, the problem isn’t coming up with something better, the problem is that you were _in _the freezer in the first place!”

Lio stops just short of the lounge, face contorting in confusion. Galo was in_ where?_

“I don’t see anything wrong with that!” Galo reasons, though Lio can’t imagine who would find this a suitable explanation. “The frozen lake is gone, and the freezer in the break room only fits my head, so the walk-in freezer at the ice cream shop was my best bet!”

There are a few seconds of silence followed by a long, loud, annoyed groan from Aina. “_Why?_ Why do the idiotic things you do make sense?” she asks, frustrated. “What made you need to cool down so badly?”

This is too interesting to hear from the hallway, Lio decides, and he steps out into the lounge. Galo spots him immediately and flushes a deep red. He leans down to Aina and, in a lowered voice, says, “I’ll show you later.”

“Show her what later?” Lio asks airily, a little miffed that Galo would try to hide something from him. He’s found Galo with his head in the freezer at home before. There was no need to try to play it off as no big deal.

“Oh, uh, hey… firebug,” Galo stammers nervously, not meeting Lio’s eyes.

Lio leans over the railing separated the lounge from the rest of the bay, trying to seem nonchalant about the entire situation, searching Galo’s oddly guilty face for—

_“Galo Thymos!” _Lio bellows, vaulting over the railing and striding angrily towards him. Whether out of habit or out of genuine fear, Galo grasps Aina’s shoulders and cowers behind her, using her as a shield.

She wrestles out of his grip easily. “Oh no you don’t!” she snaps, shoving Galo into Lio’s path. “I’m not falling for that twice!”

As Lio draws closer, Galo starts to play with a lock of hair coming down over his right ear in an obvious ploy to hide it. “Uh, how’s your morning been?”

“Cut the crap, Thymos,” Lio spits. “Stop playing with your hair and show me!”

On the side, Aina sucks in a breath through her teeth. “_‘Thymos’?_ He’s really pissed at you, Galo.”

Galo shoots her a dirty look, and that split-second distraction is all Lio needs to yank Galo’s hand away. The bottom of half of Galo’s right ear is bandaged up in gauze, and the right side of his neck is an agitated red, like he’d been hit there recently.

“You…” Lio starts, staring up at Galo in disappointment and anger. “You _actually_ got into a fight with that cat on the corner?” He releases Galo none too gently and crosses his arms. “How many times do I have to tell you, if she doesn’t want to sit on your shoulder, don't try to keep her there!”

Aina swivels her head to Lio quickly enough that her ponytail inadvertently whips Galo’s arm. “A cat? A cat made Galo sit in a freezer until his lips were turning blue?”

This is news to Lio, who uncrosses his arms to pull Galo down to eye-level. “Your lips were turning blue?!” he demands, scanning for any other stupid injuries on Galo’s stupid, handsome face.

“Urk…” Galo hesitates, scrunching his eyes closed. His face is almost fire-engine red. At least he has the dignity to be embarrassed. “You weren’t with me when I passed by this morning, so she let me pet her for a while, and I thought she’d finally be okay with sitting on my shoulder, but she freaked out and bit my ear—stop freaking out, she didn’t bite that hard!”

“Even if your ear is intact, the fact remains that she bit you hard enough to warrant this much gauze!” Lio retorts, pushing Galo’s face back harder than necessary. As he re-crosses his arms, he takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. “No matter how badly you want that cat to like you, don’t give yourself hypothermia over it,” he scolds gently.

“Ugh, I knoooow,” Galo whines, lolling his head forward in shame. “I also made sure to apologize to Thyma for using our neighbor status to guilt her into letting me stay in the walk-in freezer.”

Lio heaves another big sigh and makes a mental note to get Thyma an apology gift card for her trouble. “That’s fine, as long as you’re okay,” he says with exaggerated annoyance. “But next time you need to cool down, just go to the ice skating rink.”

“The ice skating rink!” Galo echoes slowly. From his tone, it’s clear that he forgot the place even exists, and Lio forces himself to not roll his eyes.

“…Wow.” Aina drags out the word, squinting at Galo. Lio’s kind of forgotten she’s here. “Why was I ever attracted to you?”

Galo shrugs at the same time Lio suggests, “His shirt is off a lot?”

Aina nods a beat later, humming in agreement. “Yeah, that’s probably it.” Galo looks between them in alarm.

“But there’s more than me being shirtless, right?” he asks urgently. “Right?”

Unwilling to answer, Aina pretends to get distracted by the locker inspection schedule and wanders off. Lio, on the other hand, hurriedly turns away. Thinking about what makes Galo attractive only reminds him of the confession deadline later today.

“I have a ton of paperwork to redo,” he mutters in lieu of responding to Galo.

“Bug, c'mon, please,” Galo calls after him. “Lio! There’s more than me being shirtless, right?!”

Lio reaches his desk before Galo can catch up, only to be met by Gueira’s waggling eyebrows and Meis’ smug grin. The Captain intercepts Galo and rattles off a list of duties that have racked up in the three hours Galo was gone, which he promptly orders Galo to get started on. The sight of Galo grumbling as he sulks off brings a fond smile to Lio’s face.

“Tick, tock,” Meis warns quietly. Lio’s smile dissipates and he leans over to scribble on Meis’ paperwork, and Meis retaliates by knocking over the stack of completed forms on Lio’s desk. They squabble pettily until Ignis chews them out for not being more diligent, like Gueira, who has already submitted all his paperwork on time.

Lio, Meis, and Gueira are slowly making their way back to the station after lunch. Gueira is proudly finishing off the last baked good from the café’s menu as Meis does his best to pep talk Lio, despite his frustration.

“Boss, we’ve been over this so many times and lunch is almost over,” Meis reiterates. “It’ll be fine! It’s three little words! Just! Tell! Him!”

Lio grabs his shoulder, and they all stop just outside the apparatus bay. “But Meis—”

“No buts!” Meis interrupts, smacking Lio’s hand off. “Listen, if you’re so nervous about it, why don’t you just do it now?”

_“Now?”_ Lio squeaks. “No way. I’m not ready!”

“And you’ll never _be_ ready!” Meis argues back. “Believe me, I know!”

Lio bites his lip in contemplation. “But you had me reassure you that it was mutual before you got around to it! And then you did it to spite me!”

Gueira frowns. “Babe, did you tell me you love me to get at Lio?”

Meis turns to Gueira sympathetically. “Yes, sweetheart, I did,” he admits breezily, “but I mean it.”

Rather than getting angry, Gueira shrugs nonchalantly. “Eh, I know you do. Carry on.”

“Is that it?” Lio sputters in disbelief. “You’re not going to question that?”

“Nope,” Gueira replies, popping the ‘p’. “Meis tried to tell me about the bet before we got together, but I got… impatient.”

The implication is obviously in regards to the picture from three days ago, and Lio wrinkles his nose in irritation. “Urgh. You two are the worst. And I'm still not doing it until after work ends.”

Meis rolls his eyes and throws his hands up in exasperation, walking in a slow circle to regain some composure. The reigns are wordlessly passed to Gueira, who leans unbothered against the station wall.

“Okay, I didn’t want to use this, but I guess I have no choice,” he says with a huff. Lio blinks at his vague statement. “I know you know I know.”

Halfway through a turn, Meis halts abruptly and sends a bewildered glance Gueira’s way.

So, Gueira is finally acknowledging his traitor status. Haughtily, Lio sniffs and raises his chin. “And what about it?”

“I _also _know that you’ve got a bigger chance with Galo than you think,” he singsongs, raising an eyebrow. “Really, Boss, have a little more faith in me. I held out on the Super Secret Secret for this long, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Meis huffs, upset at being left out of the loop. “Would you just tell the Boss what it is so he’ll quit stallin’?”

Gueira hums, thinking on his wording, and meets Lio’s eyes. “I dunno all the details on Galo’s end, but I know you have nothin’ to worry about. I guarantee it,” he states with certainty, shredding Lio’s doubts effortlessly. “You should go for it with—what does he call it? ‘Mad Burnish pride’?”

There are a few seconds of relative silence, during which Lio allows Gueira’s reassurance to sink in. Meanwhile, Meis grills his boyfriend about his traitor status in hushed tones.

“…I’m gonna tell him now,” Lio announces in a voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s what I’ve been tellin’ you this entire freakin’ time, Boss,” Meis utters through gritted teeth.

“If it makes you feel better, we’ll be right behind ya, won’t we, Meis?” Gueira chirps cheerfully, redirecting Meis’ fury.

With renewed confidence, Lio marches into the station in search of Galo, his lieutenants hot on his heels. He hears snatches of conversation from the break room. As they close the distance, Lio recognizes Galo’s and Aina’s voices.

Lio pauses just beyond the threshold, gathering up his nerves and rehearsing his confession. This is the most positive he’s felt in weeks, if he’s honest. Still, he doesn’t want to be rude and interrupt, so he impatiently waits and listens for a natural break in the discussion.

“Okay, spill,” Aina demands, and there’s the sound of her kicking Galo’s boot. “What did you _really_ want to show me this morning?”

“Pipe down!” Galo shushes her. “Someone could hear!”

“Show me!” she repeats louder, just to spite him.

Galo grumbles something that Lio can’t discern, but the sound of rustling fabric indicates Galo pulling something out of one of his belt pouches.

Lio hears Aina gasp in shock. “Galo Thymos! _Please_ tell me that the thing inside this little velvet box is what I think it is!”

“W-well,” Galo stammers, “it’s a little different from what everyone else expected.” There’s a beat of silence, followed by another, softer gasp from Aina.

“Oh, Galo, these are absolutely stunning,” she whispers conspiratorially. “Your boyfriend is a very lucky man. I hope he says yes!”

And suddenly, Lio’s ears are ringing. His good mood plummets into the cold, bottomless depths of his gut. His higher thinking shuts down, leaving only the base instinct that he needs to go somewhere else immediately, where he’ll be safe and, more importantly, alone. Soundlessly, he backs away from the break room until he’s far enough that Aina and Galo won’t hear him sprinting back to his bike. He ignores the hushed calls of his name from Meis and Gueira as they give chase. Lio rushes by someone who doesn’t try to stop him as he peels out of the apparatus bay way over the speed limit.

It’s been almost a year and a half since he’s cried this hard.

The next moment of clarity makes him realize his surroundings are totally different. The red-gold dust of the Wastes coats almost every inch of him. In front of Lio lies the ghostly remains of what used to be a gas station—one that he recognizes.

He’s escaped to an old Burnish hideout.

It’s the closest one to Promepolis’ outskirts, but it’s still quite far. Lio doesn’t remember driving for so long. Is that bad? Vaguely, Lio hopes that he hasn’t broken too many traffic laws.

There’s an eerie sort of calmness buzzing in the back of his mind that he hasn’t felt in a while. He knows that he’s just gotten the shock of his life, but he doesn’t feel the full blow yet. He chalks the crying up to shock, and winces when he realizes that worse is yet to come. Then his phone rings. Answering it is a strictly mechanical process.

“...Hello?”

_“Lio,” _a firm timber greets him. It’s Ignis. _“I saw you charge out of the station. Are you okay?”_

Is he okay? “It’s… I just…” The words won’t come out. His throat is suddenly squeezing tighter and tighter, and his head feels strangely warm. “I don’t… feel okay.”

And Ignis, for better or worse, takes his words at face value. _“If it was bad enough that you needed to leave, take a half-day off.”_

The rest of the conversation doesn’t register in Lio’s mind. His phone is lying face down on the sandy ground. Lio is somehow sitting next to it. He feels weak, and his breathing isn’t working right. Maybe he’ll be better after a short reprieve, away from the bustle of the city.

He treads the once-familiar layout of the building, concentrating on his old, barely-there habit of scouring the shelves for rations. There isn’t much left to find, but it helps to soothe the gnawing in his throat and chest, quieting the urge to—scream? Yell?

When he’s tucked himself away behind a counter without too many splinters, Lio realizes he’s crying again. And once he thinks about why he’s crying, he feels the same way he did a lifetime ago at Fennel Volcano, trapped in ice. The bullet in his heart had been easier to deal with.

Ignis has two phones. One is his personal phone, seldom used save for the occasional doting text or call to and from his worrywart husband. The other is his work phone, reserved for those rare times when the team is inexplicably split up during a job and the coms don’t work.

The most use it has ever seen was before Galo arrived, the day Station 2’s freeze tech was undergoing inspection for faulty assembly and Station 3 was called to respond to a Burnish fight that had broken out in Station 2’s jurisdiction. Unfortunately, in the midst of their rescuing, Mad Burnish had launched an attack in Station 3’s district. Ignis had piloted one of Remi’s spare suits while Lucia and Varys provided support, leaving Remi and Aina to deal with the civilians from the first incident. It was one of the most hectic days in Station 3’s history, and Ignis hasn’t seen his work phone receive much traffic since then.

Until today.

Today, one of his rookies is sending erratic and poorly composed messages in rapid succession. Every aspect of this sets off another blaring siren in his mind. Where is the minimalistic, concise, and orderly composition that he associates with Lio Fotia? Something is clearly wrong, and that conclusion is drawn before Ignis can even begin to address the subject matter.

Ignis spends long minutes analyzing and making sense of Lio’s gibberish, then spends more minutes convincing himself that this is actually happening, that Lio is panic-spamming Ignis’ work number.

That Lio is requesting a schedule rearrangement in order to never share a shift with Galo.

The request is ludicrous at best, and Ignis would never waste time or resources going through with it. Instead, he regrets not having a third phone for semi-work-related non-emergencies and pings the location of Lio’s phone, then opens a new message addressed to Gueira and Meis.

Lio is deep in the process of lamenting his rush decision to ever involve Ignis with recent developments when he hears the low rumble of an approaching bike.

Or bikes, rather.

He’s still familiar enough with the sound of Gueira’s and Meis’ movements to know it’s them right off the bat. Their footsteps are slow and careful, and Lio resigns himself to being found.

When they reach him, Lio manages to raise his head enough to nod in greeting. There are no words exchanged between them. Instead, Meis and Gueira drop their armfuls of sleeping bags and duffels and begin to set up camp.

They work smoothly in tandem, for the most part. A lack of practice has made them a little rusty, but in less than fifteen minutes, they have three bedrolls and sleeping bags laid out around a small yet warm firepit. Gueira approaches Lio’s meager stash, which consists of a jar of honey, a bag of sugar, and a few water bottles. He looks over the items, then glances briefly at Lio, who nods without making eye contact. Without hesitating, Gueira everything up in his arms and presents them to Meis.

Dinner prep is halfway through when Lio decides that he’s fed up with sulking. He stands on aching legs, one foot prickling slightly from poor circulation. Wordlessly, Meis and Gueira scoot until there’s room for Lio to help with boiling a small pot of water as they continue to cut and peel some potatoes and carrots.

Minutes later, a simple potato-carrot-meat stew is underway. The tension between them is increasingly uncomfortable, and Gueira is the one to break it.

“I’m really, really sorry, Lio,” Gueira blurts at last, uncharacteristically quiet. “I knew Galo was going to ‘ask the big question’, but I was so, so sure he was talking about you that I didn’t think about—”

“It’s fine,” Lio cuts him off. It doesn’t _feel_ fine, but what else is he supposed to do? Berate his oldest friends for wanting and wishing the best for him? For hoping? “I’ll be fine.”

This statement, at the very least, is the truth. It’ll take a long time, but Lio believes in the creed “fake it ‘til you make it”. Pretending to not be in love with Galo won’t be difficult, given that he’s hidden his feelings all this time.

“I’m sorry, too,” Meis adds somberly. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to confess, Lio. It never occurred to me that—well, it hardly matters now.”

A quietness falls between them, thick and smothering, as each of them ruminates. The stew finishes cooking, and Gueira ladles generous portions for each of them into shiny metal bowls. Absently, Lio notes to himself that he’ll reimburse them for the cost of all this undoubtedly brand-new camping gear.

Dinner is eaten quickly and in silence, much like in the fairly recent past. It’s so different from the lively, raucous dinners Lio’s accustomed to now, and the sudden thoughts of Galo are salt in his gaping wounds. In the distance, the sun finally sets. The lavenders and indigos of twilight bleed into the sky, tiny stars winking into existence with the fading light.

“I’m still going to tell him,” Lio announces boldly, staring intently at the streaks of leftover stew in his bowl. “Tomorrow morning.”

Meis answers after a time. “You don’t have to.”

“I know,” Lio says, rolling to face their fire. “I’m doing it for me, so I can get over him. Eventually, I’ll be able to smile when I tell him ‘congratulations’.”

“You’re a good guy, Boss,” Gueira says brightly. “No matter how much you think you aren’t.” He takes Meis’ and Lio’s bowls for rinsing and steps a little ways out of the building with a spare bottle of water.

“He blames himself a little,” Meis tells Lio when Gueira’s out of earshot. “He thinks he should have told you what Galo was planning, that way you could have prepared yourself for this.”

Lio shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have taken it well even if I did prepare for it. Besides,” he sighs, “you guys are too loyal to betray a friend’s trust like that.”

When Gueira returns, Lio yells at him for feeling guilty, and Gueira in turn yells at Meis for telling Lio. It’s not so much arguing as it is good-natured ribbing, and eventually the topic devolves into irrelevant jabs at one another. They laugh until their muscles are sore and only stop when Gueira threatens to puke.

Once they settle down a bit around the fire, Meis pulls out instant cocoa packets with a flourish, then immediately despairs over not having brought milk. Lio rolls his eyes and points out that he did, in fact, find sugar and honey to add a little more sweetness and body to their hot cocoa. Of course, Gueira misjudges how much of each to add to the cocoa, and in their attempts to rectify the ratios by adding more water, they forget that they don’t have more cocoa packets on hand.

In the end, they have what amounts to chocolate-flavored sugar water. It’s disgustingly sweet and almost undrinkable, but Lio can only think about how good it is. And he finds comfort here, in the simplicity of his friends’ loyalty and company. He focuses on it, on the way their breathing slowly evens out, and lets the rhythm lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thyma's here because i say she is, don't think about it too hard


	5. Chapter 5: Am I Only Dreaming (Or Is This Burning?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lio finally says what he wants to say. So does Galo.
> 
> Alternatively, small gestures speak volumes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i meant to get this final chapter out last month, but i got distracted by video games and the hobbit and lord of the rings  
this chapter sat around for a while bc i wasn't completely satisfied with how i wrote it, but sometimes you have to accept that this is the best you can do with what you have  
i also preordered the eng release of the promare blurays twice bc i want both the steelbook and the poster, dammit
> 
> happy totally stab caesar day

Lio wakes before his alarm for the first time in months. The light of dawn breaking over the horizon spills unfiltered into the gas station, and he realizes how spoiled the blackout curtains at home have made him. They’d been bought solely for Lio’s benefit; Galo naturally rises around the same time every day, regardless of factors including (but not limited to) amount of sunlight, hours of sleep, quality of resting place, noise levels, etc. By contrast, Lio is roused at the slightest provocation and can’t power nap on command as Galo does.

The musings of Galo’s sleeping habits and Lio’s jealousy over his napping abilities very quickly boils down to just _Galo_ and _jealousy_.

Oh, right. Yesterday happened. And not at all the way Lio wishes it had gone. He sighs to himself, careful that his sulking doesn’t bother his still-sleeping lieutenants, and stares at the decrepit ceiling a bit longer. He allows himself a little more time to stew in disappointment and self-pity. Through the holes and missing tiles, he watches the sky cycle through the colors of morning until the pale pinks and purples and oranges become a familiar bright blue.

How long does it take for a crush to go away? For something more than a crush to go away? How long until Lio no longer feels the sting of unrequited love?

And for Galo to consider marriage to some unknown stranger hurts the most. Lio doesn’t have even the barest hint who this sudden third party could be. Perhaps he’d grossly overestimated the importance of his friendship in Galo’s undoubtedly vast social circle.

Perhaps he’d overestimated his importance to Galo, full stop.

Yet, no matter how Lio laments his situation or the number of suppositions he imagines, there is only one way forward.

He sits up despite the heavy dread of the decision he’d made last night and casts a glance over to Meis and Gueira. The two of them have shifted closer in their sleeping bags, Meis’ head tucked into the crook of Gueira’s neck and shoulder. Unwilling to disturb them, Lio begins to pack their supplies quietly, making sure to gather up the crinkly bits of trash for bagging before they leave.

The preoccupation with thoughts of Galo make Lio much less observant then he usually is, because he’s nearly done strapping everything down to the bikes when he thinks to check on his companions. They’re already awake, snuggling together against a part of the wall that won’t collapse with their weight as they suppress giggles.

Lio wrinkles his nose at them. “Thanks for the help,” he says flatly. “How long have you been up?”

Gueira stretches out as Meis stands to help Lio pack. “A while,” Gueira answers with a smile. “Long enough to see you lift a duffel upside down without zipping it up first.”

Meis snickers at that, and Lio sticks his tongue out at him. The three of them finish up in a companionable silence that lacks last night’s heavy atmosphere. They’re ready to go and Lio’s about to put on his helmet when Meis calls out to him.

“Boss,” he says hesitantly. “We’re here for you, no matter what happens after.”

Lio nods, not needing any elaboration. Regardless of things go with Galo, Lio won’t let himself run and hide at their apartment like a coward. He’ll weather it all with his Mad Burnish pride.

And yet, for all his bluster, Lio can feel it in his gut, a churning both similar to and yet very unlike the heat of the Promare.

(It’s also similar to heartburn, but that’s not the point.)

Today is the day Galo turns him down, and the day he swallows his pain to give Galo a sincere congratulations. None of the strategies he’d come up with to lessen the blow would work as well in practice as they would in theory.

But no matter how much Lio wishes he were anywhere else, he continues to stare at the slightly worn paint and brass numbers to his and Galo’s apartment. Slowly, he turns his key and unlocks the door.

Unsurprisingly, Galo is already awake. If the way he paces idly around the coffee table is any indication, he’s been waiting for Lio to get home. The hinges squeak open and there’s an awkward moment where Galo and Lio stare at one another, unmoving, like deer in headlights. Galo clears his throat, giving Lio time to step fully into the apartment.

With a deep sigh, Lio walks into the living room and stands face-to-face with Galo. The gauze from yesterday is still on Galo’s right earlobe, and Lio absently wonders how extensive the damage from the cat on the corner really is.

The next thing Lio notices, albeit a little belatedly, is that Galo is still wearing his uniform from yesterday—belt, boots, and all. Did he not sleep last night? The skin under his eyes looks a little darker than normal, and he seems groggy.

“Welcome home, firebug,” Galo says after a pause, trying to defuse the obvious tension. “Are you feeling better?”

“Feeling better?” Lio echoes, a little lost. “About what?” He bites back a sarcastic follow-up question, because Galo is clearly concerned.

Galo inspects him worriedly. “Captain said you had to take the rest of the day off, and Meis and Gueira went to stay with you. And you didn’t reply to any of my texts or calls.”

At that, Lio pulls out his phone. “It died,” he reports, waving the blank screen so Galo can see. Understanding and relief wash over his face, and he nods.

“Okay,” Galo sighs, sounding like a weight has been lifted off his chest. “Still, I made some chicken noodle soup if you’re not feeling 100%.”

“I wasn’t sick,” Lio tells him. “I just… needed to spend a little time with Meis and Gueira. But thanks for the soup anyway.”

Galo’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Is it because they’re dating now and you didn’t want to feel left out?” he asks in earnest, scratching his jaw in contemplation. “Well, I guess it makes sense, since you three have been friends for a long time.” He looks at Lio. “I noticed you’ve been hanging out with them more, but I didn’t realize you felt that way. Sorry for not doing anything about it.”

Dumbfounded, Lio shakes his head. How can Galo be such a perfect human being? “No, don’t worry about it,” he answers. “We’re cool. I needed… encouragement. Because I have something to tell you.”

“I have something to tell you, too!” Galo squawks, voice cracking. He clears his throat and repeats himself in a calmer manner. “I have something to tell you, too.”

A beat of silence follows, and Lio realizes that Galo is waiting for permission to continue. In a moment of stumbling brilliance, Lio motions for Galo to go first. And then bites his lip hard at the sheer stupidity of that move.

_What the actual fuck! _Lio screams at himself in his mind. _Why did I do that?_

Lio chokes on his tongue trying to change tell Galo that he’s changed his mind and wants to speak first, but Galo pays no heed to Lio’s inner turmoil, too busy concentrating on getting the words out the right way. “Lio, I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and—” he draws in a deep breath “—I don’t really know if I’m moving too fast, but I’ve meaning to talk to you about it since yesterday.”

Galo stares at Lio with the same intensity as the first time they met, and even now it makes Lio shiver a little. But the context is very, very different now, and Lio doesn’t think he can handle the tension that starts to build again.

“Just… get it over with, Galo.” Lio feels a twinge of guilt at rushing Galo, but the anticipation of embarrassment and renewed heartbreak is already a prickling heat at the base of his neck.

“Sure!” Galo chirps too brightly. Fumblingly, he takes Lio’s hand in one of his own as his other fishes something out from the depths of his front belt pouch. Is this the only reason Galo hasn’t changed out of yesterday’s uniform?

An almost fist-sized object is pressed into Lio’s palm, smooth and plush and vaguely familiar. Upon inspection, Lio’s apprehension instantaneously becomes dread. In his hand is the velvet box that he knows will be presented to Galo’s soon-to-be-fiancé. Its contents are incredibly important if Galo wants Lio’s opinion, especially since Galo is staring at him so expectantly.

With a deep, anchoring breath, Lio resigns himself to the knowledge that he has done far too little much too late and puts on a fake-surprised face. “What’s this?” he asks dumbly, playing into the act of curious ignorance.

For all his nervous energy, Galo is doing a spectacular job channeling most of it into chewing a hole through his lower lip. “Open it,” he beams. The gleeful expectation in his every move is painfully endearing.

Lio complies. ...And is genuinely taken aback by what he finds. Resting inside is a pair of matching rings. They’re both a shiny jet black, made of an unmistakably high-quality metal. One is set with an impossibly bright pink stone, the triangular cut unusual and eye-catching, and the other is fitted with a squared gem of an equally luminous blue. Simple, beautiful, and strangely familiar.

Jealousy and hurt flare in Lio’s chest, wringing out his heart with a keening pain now that he sees Galo’s intent for someone else in physical form. Lio wishes he’d insisted on going first after all; confessing after being shown the engagement rings is definitely the shittiest move he’ll ever make in his life.

The revelry is broken by Galo’s impatient, eager, “Well?”

But Lio can’t take his eyes off the rings, mesmerized by them and the thousand questions surrounding them. “‘Well’, what?”

“Do you like them?”

“Yes,” Lio answers absently, jealous and nauseous all at once. He snaps the lid shut and offers the box back to Galo, averting his eyes to the knick-knack shelf on the wall past Galo’s head. “They’re... lovely.”

But Galo closes Lio’s hands around the gift, pushing it back into his chest. “Good, one’s for you!”

Lio stares at the tiny box in confusion, cradling it against his sternum, fully expecting Galo to snatch it back with a joking smile. “...Why are you giving one to me?”

“Oh,” Galo says, visibly deflating. “I was sure… You don’t like it? I can go back and have them—”

“No, they’re beautiful, I meant…” Lio studies Galo’s sullen expression and takes a deep breath. There isn’t an easier way to breach the subject. “I heard you tell Aina that these are for your boyfriend.”

Galo flushes deeply and looks down sheepishly. “You heard that? Do you want me to use ‘significant other’ instead? Or ‘partner’? I know we don’t really talk about you and me and our relationship label and stuff, but I—” He cuts himself off when Lio raises a hand.

_This can’t be right,_ Lio thinks desperately. _It’s a misunderstanding._ “What do you mean, ‘our relationship label’?”

Galo chews his lip timidly. “Well, we didn’t formally agree on what we’re calling it, so I, um… call you my boyfriend.” At the look on Lio’s face, Galo rushes to amend his perceived insult. “But I could change it to ‘significant other’ or ‘partner’ or ‘platonic—’!” Lio’s palm squashes firmly against his mouth.

“_I’m_ the boyfriend?” Lio asks slowly. “_Your_ boyfriend?”

“Well, yeah,” Galo answers in a muffle, as though this is a well-known fact. He gently pries Lio’s hand off his face. “Who else would it be?”

“Since when?! If this is a joke, it’s not very funny, Galo,” he warns.

“It’s not a joke!” Galo insists. “And since more than a year ago, when I asked you to move in with me.”

Lio narrows his eyes, trying to recall what part of Galo’s cohabitation offer could possibly count as an intention to date. “You said, and I quote, ‘I care about him a lot, it’s the natural thing to do’. What part of that—”

“No, that’s what I told _other_ people when they asked me why I asked you!” Galo interrupts, nearly shouting. “What I said to _you_ was, ‘Lio, I like you a lot, if you feel the same way you should move in with me forever’!”

“How the fuck was _that_ asking me out?! I thought that was just you being nice!” Lio argues, throwing his hands in the air. “Anyone would think that you were only being friendly!”

Pursing his lips in a pout, Galo admits that Lio has a point. “Yeah, fine, I could have made sure we were on the same page. But there was still everything else I was doing!”

“Of course,” Lio drawls sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “And what else did you do to tip me off that our relationship was even a little romantic?”

Galo’s eyes widen in disbelief, brows furrowing deeply as he ticks things off his fingers. And Lio, with every item listed, can only blurt out what weak rebuttal comes to mind.

“We live together,” Galo starts.

“Friends can live together!”

“I kept flirting with you after Galo de Lion.”

“I didn’t know you _meant_ it!”

“I gave you my old sweatshirts so you could keep and wear them.”

“Maybe you didn’t want to just throw them out!”

“I have a pet name just for you.”

“...I _did _catch that one, but I didn’t think you were doing it on purpose.”

“We get each other presents and we go on dates all the time.”

“I thought those were roommate bonding things!”

“We share a bedroom!”

“We have separate beds!”

“I thought you’d like to keep your personal space, and it wouldn’t wake up the other person if we’re called in during the middle of the night!”

At this point, Lio knows he’s losing this fight. He’s losing more and more steam as each contention of their relationship is laid bare, and he feels more and more the fool for not realizing the myriad ways Galo has been thoughtfully, dotingly showering Lio in romantic affection.

Chewing on his lip, Lio pries the velvet box open again, studying the rings for a long moment. “We never talk about us being together,” he says finally. “We never talked about dating, let alone...”

Galo squeezes his eyes shut and scrubs at his hair erratically. “Okay, that’s mostly on me for assuming things,” he concedes, “but you never talked about your feelings, either. And you always freeze up when I try to be romantic. I thought maybe you don’t like the super mushy stuff, so I toned it down.”

Lio is flooded with memories of Galo’s more affectionate gestures—light touches on Lio’s back or shoulders, lingering stares, too-long hugs, every time Galo called him ‘firebug’—

And everything was followed by Lio’s stiff, silent lack of reciprocation.

Lio swears under his breath, only now understanding that he has, in fact, done nothing to outwardly show any interest beyond ‘roommate’. “Fuck, Galo, I’m sorry,” he blurts, rushing to reassure him. “I didn’t mean for you to think I didn’t want a relationship with you, I just… I was waiting for you to say something, so I’d know it was okay for me to like you back.”

For several seconds, they stare at each other without saying anything. All the dissonance in their relationship is out in the open now, but Lio really doesn’t know where to go from here. It’s too presumptuous of him to expect Galo’s continued romantic pursuit after Lio admitted that he had no idea he was already being pursued in the first place.

But Galo, in his lovably unpredictable way, scoops Lio up over his shoulder and deposits him on the couch. It takes Galo’s warm hands enveloping his own for Lio to register how deathly cold his hands are around the ring box.

“Lio, look at me.” There’s no edge to Galo’s voice, only a firm but soothing cadence that reminds Lio of a distant lullaby. He’s kneeling in front of Lio with a pleading expression. “We should talk about us now.”

“Why?” Lio blurts instead. “Why would you be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t do couple-y things with you, or even show you that he likes you?”

Galo shakes his head and grips Lio’s hands more firmly. “Because I like _you_, firebug, and I like just _being_ with you. Even if we weren’t doing the couple-y parts of going out, having you this close every day for the rest of my life is enough for me.”

“You deserve more than that!” Lio snaps. “You deserve someone who talks to you about their feelings, who knows how you feel without being told, who hugs you and kisses you and tells you ‘I love you’ every day!”

“And I want that ‘someone’ to be _you_, Lio Fotia!” Galo declares loudly, ignoring Lio’s protests. “We both know how we feel about each other now, so you have the rest of forever to work on the couple-y things!”

_This can’t be real,_ Lio thinks doubtfully. _It’s too good to be real. _“And you’re sure about me?”

Galo shoots him a reproachful look. “You’re my one and only, firebug,” he says, pressing kisses to Lio’s knuckles. “No one else in the universe sets my soul on fire the way you do.”

“That—!” Lio sputters, blushing violently. “You say the cheesiest things, and somehow you always make it sound cool and profound,” he mutters, knocking his forehead against Galo’s. “You saved my life at least twice, and you saved _me_. I want to be a better person because of you. I want to be someone who deserves to be by your side.”

Lio moves to kneel in front of Galo, sliding the ring box onto the coffee table so he can hold both of Galo’s hands. “I like you, Galo. _More _than like you. I want to deserve you_,_ and everything that comes with loving you.”

Galo squeezes his hands tightly, swallowing hard. “Wanna kiss you so bad right now, Lio,” he murmurs, glancing up, so red that anyone else would mistake it for sunburn. “Can I? Please?”

Giddy with relief, Lio finally musters a cheeky smile. “Galo Thymos,” he breathes, voice quavering. “Would you do me the incredible honor of officially being my boyfriend? Kiss me if your answer is—”

He doesn’t finish listing Galo’s options before Galo surges forward to shut him up enthusiastically.

Approximately one hour later, they’re cuddling on the couch, satisfied despite (and because of) their kiss-swollen lips. Lio is absent-mindedly massaging Galo’s scalp, running a hand through gel-heavy hair in determination to ruin Galo’s hairstyle. His other is entwined with Galo’s. Likewise, Galo has an arm wrapped around Lio and is busily charting the topography of Lio’s sharp hip bone with his fingertips.

Amused, Galo notes that Lio is more than comfortable with physical touch now that they’re explicitly dating. Briefly, he wonders how much skin he’ll eventually be allowed to uncover, and how much of Lio he’ll eventually bear witness to, and… Another more salacious thought pops into his mind, disrupting his hands in their exploration. Lio notices immediately.

“Something wrong?” he asks languidly.

Galo pauses and shifts in his private, newfound discomfort, trying to figure out a way to approach the subject tactfully without shoving it in Lio’s face. Or ass. “You’re okay with cuddling and me touching you like this,” he says hesitantly. “But, um, how much touching are you okay with?”

At that, Lio sighs, but the sound is more entertained than exasperated. “Is this a roundabout way of asking me if I’m open to having sex?” he asks, swirling a finger at Galo’s nape. “Because the answer is yes.”

“Oh,” Galo blushes, surprised at Lio’s bluntness. “Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page this time. I don’t want you to feel rushed, or think I expect it. We don’t have to—”

Lio squishes Galo’s cheeks together with one hand and draws him nearly nose to nose. “I’ve been in love with you for almost a year and a half and we’ve lived together in mutual pining for most of that time, so honestly, I think our… _getting acquainted_ is very overdue. If we both want sex, we have the rest of forever to work on it,” he states smugly, deliberately repeating Galo’s phrasing. He gives Galo a soft peck before releasing him.

Something inside Galo snaps, and he chases Lio’s mouth hungrily, ignoring Lio’s surprised squeak. He struggles to put his thoughts into words through the steadily building fog in his brain. “Well,” he murmurs at Lio’s ear, “we’re both off duty tomorrow, and we have the rest of today to get started.”

“But I’m still gross from camping out,” Lio protests, flustered. “And you’re still in yesterday’s uniform.”

Galo flashes him a cocky grin and tugs at one of Lio’s belts. “Who says we can’t start with a shower?”

Much, much, _much_ later, Galo and Lio are tangled together in one too-small bed. The other is covered in thoroughly ruined sheets that are better off destroyed than washed, but they’re both too sore everywhere to do anything about it.

Hazily, Lio remembers the box that he had placed haphazardly on the coffee table earlier, when he finally confessed. He hasn’t really paid attention to it since then, given his earlier preoccupation with cursing himself for wearing so many belts. (And Galo, extraordinary tease that he is, took his sweet time unbuckling them leisurely, one by one, without breaking eye contact.)

Lio snuggles closer into Galo’s side, admiring the pillowy qualities of his pecs with a lazy, swirling finger. “Galo, the engagement rings are beautiful, but I think it’s too early in our relationship for you to re-propose.”

“Hmm?” Roused from near-sleep, it takes Galo a few seconds to provide an answer. “Those aren’t engagement rings, and I wasn’t proposing.” He shifts a little, bringing them face to face. “Those were supposed to be promise rings. One for you and one for me. But at this point… they’re a zero anniversary gift?” He presses a languid kiss to what he thinks may be Lio’s temple, but his lips meet far more hair than he expects.

The finger on his chest stops dead, prompting Galo to crack a heavy eyelid to check Lio’s reaction.

And what an adorable reaction.

Whether it’s because of the intimacy of their surroundings or out of honest surprise, Lio has an entirely vulnerable doe-eyed look that makes Galo burn with the heat of a star system on fire. The reverence in Lio’s gaze is praise enough. With an easy smile, Galo guides Lio to a sitting position and gets up to retrieve the velvet box.

“They’re also not rings,” he says, voice reverberating slightly through the hallway. “I mean, they’re kind of rings?”

A moment later, he sits down facing Lio and cups Lio’s hand palm up, then plucks out the ring with the blue gem. Galo deposits it in Lio’s hand. Upon closer inspection, Lio can see that it’s clearly an earring. But assuming that it’s a pair with the pink-gemmed earring, Lio still has only one pierced ear, so—

“And I never got in a fight with that cat on the corner,” Galo admits, carefully peeling the gauze from his right earlobe. A silver barbell earring glints faintly in the near-darkness. “The piercist said it’s better to have a stainless steel one until it heals,” he explains softly. “So I’ll have to wait another month and a half until I can wear them with you.”

A flood of emotion courses through Lio, the liquid fire in his veins ignited by Galo’s flame. The only other time he’s felt like this was when they, in the Galo de Lion, set their world ablaze. Logic and reason are overtaken by utter adoration when Lio whispers, “I love you.”

The admission is soft yet powerful, and the sincerity of it makes Galo lightheaded. The sheer euphoria wrought by the confirmation of their reciprocated (_mutually romantic!_) affections can hardly be contained in a single person, and Galo’s heart is fit to burst. He channels that excess of renewed energy into kissing Lio as passionately as possible, hoping to imprint any approximation of how immensely he feels.

After all, despite his fondness of grand verbal presentations, Galo is still a man who prefers to demonstrate through direct action. With so much love to be given and taken and returned, sleep finds them hours and hours and hours later, when exhaustion makes itself known.

They arrive unreasonably late for their shift in the morning, the other Burning Rescue members unable to look either Lio or Galo in the eyes. Everyone, including Remi, makes more small talk than usual, and there are more than a few not-so-subtle exchanges of cash going to Varys and the Captain.

Gueira, ever late to the party, hisses at Lio for so obviously sleeping with someone else’s boyfriend-slash-fiancé. Lio rolls his eyes and lays out the events of two days ago, after the three of them had parted ways. When Gueira asks about yesterday, Lio gives him a pointed look and shoots back with, “I don’t know, Gueira. Probably the same thing you and Meis did right after you started dating.”

Hearing that, Lucia makes an off-handed comment about them working fast, to which Meis reacts by using the force of a cannon to pelt Galo in the face with a shirt. Galo grumbles about not being able to show off his ‘new relationship proof’, and Aina suffers a minor headache about her taste in men.

Lio would normally let Meis off for beaming Galo in the face, but he notes that Meis is wearing his uniform all buttoned up for once and that Gueira is sitting strangely. Instead, he settles for sending them an absolutely shit-eating grin whenever the chance comes.

And despite all the exaggerated grumbling about recent developments, everyone congratulates Lio on his new earring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they ate galo's chicken noodle soup between rounds  
also if you get a piercing, please take proper care of it by not getting distracted in the shower  
and i still don't understand the joke about remi's girlfriend being an alligator (explain please?????)  
edit: my sister has been listening to the ratatouille song lately and i mcfrickin spelled remi's name with a y so i fixed it

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't actually written or posted anything in five years, so here's to hoping my writing hasn't deteriorated too much


End file.
